Monday, September 24, 2012

Well I am still powering along with my new WIP “Hilda”. I
haven’t quite managed the rate of a scene a day that I did in my first week.
However, I am up to 19 scenes in 21 days and reading them back I suspect most
of them will end up in the final book.

Still that is a long way off yet

So in this week’s scene Hilda is off to the first day of
what she believes will be her last year at school.

1910

Little
Wilfred held Hilda’s left hand very tightly as the three of them walked along
the road toward the school. Dolly walked on Wilf’s other side holding his other
hand. He was putting on a brave face being as his Dad said he was ‘A man of the
family,’ but as Hilda knew he was scared at the prospect of his first day of
school. Dolly hadn’t helped him with tales of Mr Marsh the Master beating the
boys with a cane. Dolly had sulked for a bit when Hilda told her ‘Leave him be
Dorothy! Don’t worry Wilf, Mr Marsh only beats naughty boys.’

No one
called Dolly “Dorothy” except when she was in trouble and she didn’t like it.

Six years
before Hilda had walked this way hand in hand with Ginnie; she remembered her
first day as one of excitement. As long as she could remember she had wanted to
go to school, and this year was her last year. This year she would turn
thirteen and finish sixth grade. After that she knew she would be walking up to
Ettington Park with her Dad to begin in service. Ginnie was lucky having found
a job in the village shop, she could stop at home and come home each evening.
Hilda was not looking forward to service, not at all, servants lived at the
Park and only had an afternoon off a week.

The
clopping of a horse’s hooves on the road behind them broke into Hilda’s
thoughts. She pulled Wilf aside, turning to see who was coming. A boy, on a
thoroughbred horse, by the look of it, someone she didn’t know. He looked about
her age and too small to be in charge of such a large animal. And behind him,
riding double, a taller girl, arms around his waist. As the horse drew level
the girl spoke ‘Hold up Fred.’

The horse
came to a halt snorting loud enough to make Wilf jump. ‘I’ll walk from here
Fred.’

The girl
threw her leg over the horse’s flank and slid down to land a yard or two from
Hilda and her siblings, she turned a warm smile to them, ‘Hello, I’m Maggie.’

Not a
local accent, maybe her is from one of the villages over Stratford way Hilda thought, but I think I am going to like
this girl.

The girl
went on,‘And this is my brother Fred.’

The boy
smiled as warmly as his sister and put his finger to his cap. ‘I’m Hilda, my
sister is Dolly and this is Wilfred.’

Fred,
more serious now, said to his sister, ‘I’ll ride ahead, I need to find where I
can pasture Bob for the day so I’m not late.’

Fred
kicked the horse into a trot and soon disappeared down the road ahead. Maggie
was nearly a head taller than Hilda, but most girls her age were taller. Hilda
would never be tall taking after, as she did, her former jockey father. Their
older sister Ginnie was not much taller despite her two extra years, Wilf
looked to be taking after their mother’s bigger boned family, while lanky Dolly
was unlike any of them.

A curious
edge to Dolly’s voice, ‘Where are you from?’

‘Weston,
over near Welford on Avon. Our dad owns the Glebe Farm there’

That put
Maggie at least a rung or two above the Attewell children on the social ladder.
A landowning farmer was his own man, as Hilda’s dad would put it, and depending
on the size of the farm might be quite wealthy. Their presence raised a series
of questions in Hilda’s mind, ‘That’s a long way to come every day.’

‘We’s
stopping with our uncle at Alderminster at the moment, it’s not so far on horseback.’

‘I
suppose not, isn’t there a nearer school?’

Maggie
took a moment before answering, ‘Yes, but our Dad won’t let us go there
anymore.’

Dolly
couldn’t help herself, ‘Why?’

Maggie
frowned, ‘The Master gave our brother Charlie a terrible beating last term. Dad
said rather than having himself punch the master he would send us elsewhere.’

‘Our
Dad’s name is Charles.’ Added little Wilf.

Maggie
smiled, ‘The same as my Dad and one of my brothers.’

‘Is Fred
younger than you?’

‘No, we’re twins we’re twelve. He used to be as tall as me but I growed
much quicker this past year. Dad says that is the way of it and Fred will pass
me by next year.’

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Well Deb had a bit of work to catch up on , and I was
pottering around the house so it was pretty late before we got out and about
yesterday. It was sunny and very still so although it was just an hour or so
before sunset we headed out so I could see if a week had made much of a
difference to the varieties of wildflowers on display at the old Queenstown Cemetery.

At first glance there didn’t seem to be much different from
last week. The minute pea flower and the bearded heath.

I decided to have a closer look because many of these wildflower
species are very hard to spot among the grasses.

Within a minute of making that resolution I spotted one
bright yellow flower hugging the ground.

Not a brilliant piccie but worth sharing

I think it is a “Trailing Goodenia” (Goodenia lanata). There were a number of Goodenia plants hiding
among the grasses. But thus far it was the only solitary bloom.

Then within a step I saw this delicate beauty.

This tiny half opened flower is of a “Tall Sundew” probably (Drosera peltata)

Here some buds that have not opened these tiny buds are less
than 6mm (1/4 inch across)

And the sticky carnivorous leaves that give these lovely
killers their name.

If you look closely

I mean really close, this one has caught a passing ant.

Then I thought I would catch some more shots of bearded
heath, because I love this amazing little thing.

It wasn’t until I looked at this piccie on my camera I even
spotted this minute insect.

It was tiny, less than an inch long (including antennae). It looks something like
a cross between a stick insect and a grass-hopper.

I couldn’t resist trying a closer shot. Alas I am no more an
entomologist than I am a botanist so I will let you speculate what it is

By the time I finished playing with my insect friend it was
the last of the light.

I paused briefly to shoot this sundew flower,

again this
flower is just over 6mm so I am really blowing it up.

Then finally as I was about to head for home I saw this
solitary orchid.

I had never seen one of these before (although they are not
particularly rare) I am almost certain it is a Waxlip Orchid (Glossodia major),

This flower was much larger than any of the others I have
photographed in the cemetery at a bit over 25mm (1 inch).

I think it is exquisite, and spent perhaps 15 minutes trying
to get my camera into different positions to capture its beauty.

Alas It was just too dark to do it real justice and I don’t have
a macro flash (anyone have a spare $500?)

I was hoping to get back today if the weather was decent,
but unfortunately it was blowing a gale, which effectively makes it impossible
to get good wild flower shots.